Chapter 28
The Bat Man
brIGIT
Somewhere in dreamland, the delicious scent of Cormac surrounds me, and I find myself slowly climbing out of unconsciousness.
A heavy weight lies across my chest, and only as I try stretching and easing into being awake do I realize it's an arm, wrapped warm and loosely around me, holding me close to an even warmer body.
In the barely there light of the morning, I blink my eyes open, finding Cormac still deep in sleep, his chest expanding and shrinking evenly.
This might be the first time I've ever been able to look at him without him looking at me.
His dark strands are almost long enough to be styled, the widow's peak more striking with the extra length. Dark brows rest heavily against his forehead, slightly furrowed even in sleep.
Those sharp cheekbones and his full mouth, a contrast of hard and soft, lines and curves, smooth and harsh.
And the tattoo of his namesake. In this light, I can find the beauty in it, rather than just the fearsomeness. I'm surprised, and maybe a little disappointed, that he sleeps fully dressed. It would be nice to see more of the tattoos and not have him watching me with those intense, dark eyes.
Performance anxiety.
I think back to the night we met and how his stare made me self-conscious, just about whether I'd enjoy a drink properly. I feel the same way whenever I look at him, trying not to get lost in all the beauty of his features.
Hidden between the magnetic pieces of him, hide tiny scars. Across his jaw, another right against where his hairline begins, only noticeable because I'm cradled against him. I ache to run my fingers along them, to bring comfort to wounds long healed.
"You're staring," he finally says, jarring me into a gasp.
I stumble through thinking up an argument, "It's only fair. You stare all the time."
His lips pull in a smirk, but he doesn't open his eyes, letting me linger in this world just a little longer before the real one comes to disrupt us.
"I'm a creep," he admits. "I get to be creepy. You're the one who is all upright and ethical."
We both know that's not true, but he's nice enough to lie.
"Let me be the creep for a minute," I mutter, wrapping the blanket further around me, burrowing myself into the warmth and scent of him, the cocoon of safety.
He chuckles, "Do you need me to take my shirt off? Just so you can get a really good look at everything? I might even be persuaded to lose my pants, if you ask nicely.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip, trying to keep the blush and smile at bay.
A quiet knock comes from downstairs, and Cormac's eyes fly open, finding mine in the dim light.
"Stay here," he tells me, rolling out of the bed and grabbing something from the bedside table, silently stalking out of the room.
He closes the bedroom door behind him, leaving me in the rapidly cooling sheets with nothing but my anxiety and flashbacks of last night.
Could the police already be here?
What got missed as they were covering up evidence?
My heart races, making it nearly impossible to stay in bed. But Cormac told me to stay, and he knows this house. I don't. I'll likely trip over something; I don't have his uncanny ability to move like a ghost.
The scent of bacon and coffee seeps through the closed door, followed shortly by quiet, but not silent, footsteps.
When it opens, Cormac stands in the doorway, holding up my phone in one hand and a very familiar paper cup in the other.
The confusion has to be palpable on my face, because he knowingly grins, "Skyler brought breakfast."
"Wow," I lay my head back down. "That was thoughtful."
I can't put my finger on why, but facing another person right now feels impossible. Especially one that sees everything like he does. More and more, I get dragged into the darkest parts of our city, but before yesterday, I could still pretend that I was somehow separate from it.
And today, I realize that I'm not.
I never really have been.
Skyler and Cormac aren't any more in this world than I am. The darkness found them, and they coped with it the only way they could.
Now I'll have to do the same, carrying the guilt of ending someone's life with me for the rest of mine.
Doing that is hard enough; doing it in front of someone who sees everything—and is a massive asshole about it—is going to be infinitely worse.
"He also destroyed all the video from last night," he adds, coming closer to me and placing my phone on the bedside table.
"No, he didn't," I laugh. "He just put it somewhere only the two of you can see it."
His face falls, something close to guilt filling it. "You're probably right. But better us than them."
That's true, at least.
Hesitantly, I let my legs fall over the edge of the bed, my frigid feet landing on the soft rug. Barely holding back a grumpy groan, I stand, immediately missing the fluffy, Cormac-scented warmth of the bed.
Slipping my phone into my pocket, I follow shortly behind him down the stairs to his kitchen. Two bags from the bakery down the street from my apartment await me. Before I can even sit at the counter, Cormac pulls out a scone and puts it in front of me, followed shortly by a massive cup of coffee.
My eyes narrow up at him, once again suspicious because there's no way he could know that this is my go-to spot unless he's done a little bit more than just keep an eye on me.
"So," Skyler leans against the fridge, dressed in a fresh button-up patterned shirt with a sliver of the black t-shirt underneath poking out, and a pair of jeans without a single wrinkle. "The video from last night is gone. You're welcome. And your apartment is spotless. You're welcome again."
"And the..." I swallow, struggling to get through the word body. "The guy?"
Cormac clears his throat, but doesn't respond.
"You don't need to worry your cute little head about that, Brigy," Skyler grins. I fucking hate that nickname. "Leo and Tate are professionals. Sorry about your rug, though."
"Thanks," I mutter through gritted teeth.
Not because I'm upset—it was just some cheap thing I found at the store on clearance—but because saying thank you to someone who helped clean up a murder scene makes me sick.
If I open my mouth to talk about it, I think the bile in my stomach might make an appearance.
"You're welcome." He either doesn't realize that my gratitude is mostly sarcastic, or he's choosing to ignore it.
"So what now?" Cormac asks him, sinking into the seat beside me, unwrapping my scone from its plastic.
Skyler lets out a heavy breath, "Well, I’d need to swing by Mingle to find the ID and background check we have on him. I know he’s come through a few times, but I don’t remember much else.”
"And he was posing as a cop?" I pry, tearing the scone into pieces because I can't stomach it quite yet. "Why?"
Cormac takes a sip of his coffee before answering, "It's what I would do."
"What?"
He looks at me from the corner of his eye, "Yeah. If I thought my target was someone who was afraid of being on the wrong side of the law, I would definitely use that to my advantage. He knew you'd be an easier mark if you let him in rather than having to force his way."
"Fortunately," Skyler continues, "You could tell he wasn't trustworthy. Your cynicism really saved your ass there."
My paranoia keeping me from blindly believing someone just because they're in a position of authority? Look at all that fucking growth. A few years ago, I would have listened to anything he said just because he wore a badge.
"What might be concerning still, is that he's not a cop, but he knew where you live." He adds, "As much of a hassle as I'm sure it is, you probably need to stay here for a while."
"But Cormac has been found here before," I argue. "If anyone is looking for him, this is the first place they'll come."
Skyler looks at Cormac, raising a single brow in a wordless suggestion.
I can see them have a silent conversation with just a split second of expressions, slightly shaking heads, and a disbelieving smile from Skyler before his attention lands on me again. "You'll be fine here."
"How can you be sure?"
Cormac's hand lands on the chair behind me, and shivers run up my spine from the graze of his thumb against my back. "I have a safe room."
"Then why didn't you use it before?" I raise a brow.
Skyler chuckles, but it's Cormac who answers.
"They didn't find me here," he shrugs. "Obviously, I can't say where they did. But it looks like they dropped me here for dead after attacking me somewhere else."
"It's looking more and more likely that they caught you off guard either coming or going from Mingle," Skyler comments.
"I can go through the cameras from the week you vanished, but I don't have the exact date when it would have happened.
I didn't know you'd been picked up and put in the hospital until it had already been over a month since I saw you. "
In my peripherals, I see Cormac slowly nod, taking another sip of the warm, fragrant drink, "What are the chances Steele is somehow involved in all of this?"
Skyler opens my laptop, scrolling through something, all the silly stickers on the back of my computer staring at me as he does. "Considering he's been up my ass about the guy he wants info on for weeks, I'm gonna say low. But I wouldn’t rule anything out.”
"Who is Steele?" I ask quietly.
Cormac groans, "He's just an annoying little gnat that won't go away."
That's not helpful. That could mean anything.
"He's a dirty cop," Skyler fills in the blanks. "But a real one. He uses Mr. Killer here and I to give him an advantage in case’s he's working so he can get there before anyone else and take credit for the busts."
"He's a douche bag, is what he is," Cormac mumbles.
"Wait," I hold up a palm. "Not Ben Steele."
Both of them freeze, looking at me as if I've grown a second head.
Cormac turns my chair to make me face him, "How do you know him?"